Geared Up
by Dumblissfool
Summary: A little bit of 'sentence enhancers'. More of action and stuff. Hopefully that is achieved. How about you tell me?


My first GOW fanfic. I only played GOW 1, trying to get the second one so probably I know almost to nothing about that universe. So, if i get anything wrong, tell me. And reviews, please, I need to know whether this is really read, not 'visited'.

I don't own Gears of War.

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Holy shit. These two words were being continuously repeated in my mind. This is crazy. And what an understatement that is. Here I am, crouching behind a pile of bags that could supposedly shield me from those blasted bullets. Amazing that within seconds, all hell broke loose. An hour ago things were incredibly serene. There wasn't a sound to be heard, with the exception of the voices of my squad mates. I was sitting on a puny wooden stool, chatting with Jack about some random stuff. Others were just as relaxed, without much worry, like me. You could say that after several days without any sight of those ugly brutes, our guard was let down a little. One can never be serious and vigilant all the time, right? At least that applies to me. But that wasn't a very smart thing to do. If there is a war, and you happen to be the unfortunate sods fighting it, you better be ready. The enemy just loves to kick you when you're down. And that's what happened.

Jack was beside me, busy blind firing at those bastards. Occasionally he would risk a peek to look at the carnage, but after that, he would continue to rain down hot lead on those incoming fools. The incoming fire was considerably intense, but most bullets only drilled holes on the walls of infrastructure and the covers on our backs. I can't help but label them, the attackers, as stupid, dumb, ignorant fools. Heh, kinda got carried away. Anyways, their strategy for victory seemed to be just charging ahead, shooting blindly and hoping for the best. But then again, I should be thankful that they remained "loyal" to their strategy. If one of those bastards realizes there was a better alternative, Jacinto would be nothing but a corpse-strewn wasteland.

"Oh yeah! Down to…never mind."

I chuckled. Nothing cures nervousness like a good laugh. I remember Jack saying that in a firefight, he would always try to think of something funny so he wouldn't worry about shit. He said he would rather die laughing than have a grim death. What he meant really, was that you should try to fight off the nervousness which every firefight would eventually bring. I've seen some fumbling frantically with their guns and ended up having unnecessary scars. Then Jack would warn me not to get carried away, because laughing too much apparently screws up aiming. Anyways, I think by now some of you might be dying to say 'Why the hell aren't you shooting?'. Shit, I won't lie. I'm just scared. I'm afraid of dying. I'm no fan of pain either. Nope, I'm not those people who don't seem to give a shit about their survival and somehow kill a lot and NEVER dies. To be fair, to me, those people only exist in the movies. I've seen fresh recruits standing tall, shooting like a madman. Curse their incompetence. They must be thinking that they are blessed or immortals or the next hero-to-be. Completely delusional. The next thing you see would be incapacitation or a pile of useless mangled corpse. Because of these people, I had to collect tags which are one of the things I enjoy least. You always had to get close to the bloody corpse to get the damned tags. And through the rummaging of the body, yes rummage, you tend to focus on the most grotesque wound of the dead. And not to mention the look on their faces. Shit, I still have nightmares about them. Wonder what made them so enthusiastic to die for the COG. Heck, I don't even want to fight for the COG. Yeah I know, it is 'frown upon' to think that. Blow me. I'm just another guy who just wants to go home and see my family. I want this war to end. Why those shits decided to wage a war against us was beyond me. I'm sure if they talked about their problems with us, we would help them. But nooo, they had to go all berserk and force us into extinction.

"God damned it David, don't just sit there, shoot!"

"Yes, sir!"

Yep, about time to shoot. I have a perfectly good weapon that can blow Locusts' heads off, so why not? I should be killing instead of crouching here thinking, right? I know I've said I'm afraid, but hey, the squad needs every member to survive, and I don't think it's fair that I let them do all the fighting, risking their lives for me indirectly. Maybe my contribution would change the course of the battle. Hopefully not in favor of the Locust. So letting my lancer rest on the sandbags, I held my breath and pulled the cold trigger.

The recoil was unexpectedly powerful. The gun was jumping about on the top of the sandbags, like the lid of a brewing teapot the entire time. I hadn't had tea for a long time. I emptied my entire magazine, but I'm pretty sure I didn't hit shit. Man, I'm mean to myself.

"Damned! How'd you shoot with this?"

"I dunno, just hold it firmly and shoot?" Jack said, eyes never leaving the enemy.

"Do I sense some sarcasm?" I said.

"Didn't you go through training?"

"I did. But it's hard to apply the stuff you learn."

"Well, you better start applying before you earn a scar on your ass."

"Don't blame if I accidentally shoot you in the ass." I said, smirking.

Despite the fact that we were outnumbered, we were doing pretty well, even with my bad skills; the team seemed to be holding off the attack nicely. No serious casualty occurred. Defending was easier than attacking, or so it seemed. Each time I took a peek, I see less of those ugly things moving. Nice, looks like I'm going to live to die another day. Just when I was about to reload, I felt something. Something odd. And my gut tells me trouble.

"Jack, you feel it?"

"Oh yeah! I'm feeling it!" Jack laughed as he perforated a drone with his lancer.

"Damned it, Jack! I'm talking about the ground!"

This time, Jack stopped shooting and turned to face me, giving me an incredulous look.

"What about it?" he said as he loaded another magazine into his lancer.

"Can't you feel it?"

Jack then placed his hand on the pavement, his face looking as if he was cracking a safe.

"Hmm. Feels pretty rough and cold. Wait. Is that a tremor?"

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Ok so how was it? Tell me anything, anything at all. All kinds of reviews welcomed!


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